Rhys had already taken a shower, and was scrolling through his phone when Feyre entered the room. She smiled at him and went to rummage through her luggage without a word. She took out a little black dress and what looked like some black underwear he forced himself to look away from.

While she went into the bathroom and turned on the water, he got out of his casual clothes and put on a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt. Tonight's party wasn't necessarily too formal, according to what Feyre had told him. Just a gathering of the guests to allow everybody to catch up with the soon-to-be-married couple. The actual wedding reception taking place on the Sunday night, Feyre had explained that most of Lucien's guests wouldn't be able to stay after the ceremony, and they would use the Saturday night to celebrate.

He was buttoning his shirt when Feyre came out of the bathroom, and he took a moment to look at her, the velvet black dress clinging onto her every curves, from her low-cut neckline to her knees. She had put on makeup, enough to enhance her grey eyes and the line of her mouth, and he found himself smiling.

"You're a sight for sore eyes."

She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and grinned at him.

"Why thank you, kind sir. You're not too shabby yourself."

He chuckled and offer her his arm.

"Saturday night is going to be very casual, just a pool party with a few guests and a buffet."

Her sister's words resonated inside her head as Feyre took in the party around them.

Now that the storm had lifted, people were enjoying the evening light outside of the hotel. Children were running around in swimming suits, and there were groups of people chatting loudly around the buffet table and beside the pool.

It was casual alright. But there were more than a few guests. All of the people who'd already been arriving at the hotel were here, more than seventy people enjoying the evening together. Or maybe it had been what Elain imagined when she said "a few guests." After all, they had invited more than a hundred people to the reception, and maybe two hundred and fifty at the ceremony.

That was so many people. If she herself ever got married, she wanted it to be a small thing, maybe a few friends and members of the family for the ceremony, and a simple dinner afterwards. She couldn't imagine herself entertaining that many people on a day that was supposed to be for only her and her fiance. Maybe later they would have a big party, but not the day of the wedding. No, that day would be simple. She'd wear a nice gown, obviously, with maybe some touches of deep blue to enhance his eyes and -

She stopped herself from thinking any further. She couldn't let herself think the next words.

Creating her imaginary wedding had always been a game, some silly fun she had with herself once in a while. But the groom never had a face. It was always the vague idea of marriage that attracted her, not an actual person. And yet, right now, she had started to imagine a wedding without a blurry groom. For a split second, he'd had deep blue eyes, dark hair, and a brown skin she knew was covered in tattoos under the fabric.

She was crazy. There was no other word for it. She couldn't walk around imagining her perfect wedding with a guy she barely knew! Her brain was just overridden by all the wedding fever around them, there were so many romantic feelings floating around them that she was just letting herself go with the flow.

And she really didn't want to. She needed to stay focused, she needed to not forget that Rhysand and her were just faking. But just when she thought that, he came back from the bar with two glasses of wine, and handed one to her with a small kiss on the cheek.

Was it so wrong? Wanting to enjoy the company of this man who had been nothing but wonderful to her ever since their meeting? Why was she supposed to hold out on something that had the potential to be great? Why should she stop herself from holding his hand, or kissing him?

So she smiled at him and, thinking that maybe letting the romantic setting get to her wasn't the worst idea, intertwined her fingers with his.

This party was great.

And it wasn't the many wedding guests they had talked to, nor the delicious food and drinks or the ambiance set by the music.

It was her.

Her fingers still laced with his even when they were slowly approaching midnight, Feyre was laughing loudly with one of her great-aunts, a delightful old woman who had come from the other side of the country to be here. They had been talking with her for maybe twenty minutes, and Rhys couldn't tear his eyes from Feyre. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, it was the way she radiated light around her, energy shining as bright as the Sun and engulfing everyone around her. He didn't know how to describe it better, and he knew he could never tell her something like that. It was too big a risk of sounding cheesy and idiotic.

But she did. Everybody that came to talk to them tonight left with a smile larger than the one they'd arrived with, she seemed able to liven up any subject of conversation with a witty joke and a kind comment. God, he wanted to kiss her.

He'd known it for a while now, that their arrangement at faking intimacy was starting to feel real for him. But looking at her casually touching his arm when she talked to him felt too amazing to ignore any longer.

He would wait for her aunt to leave them, and then he'd talk to her. About how he was starting to like her more than he'd planned. About how he wanted to kiss her, and not just for show.

"Feyre!" he heard a woman's voice come from behind them, and felt Feyre's fingers clench his own. She apologized to her aunt and turned to the newcomers, a couple in their sixties who were marching towards them. The woman wrapped her in a tight hug, tearing their hands apart before releasing Feyre.

"Oh Dear, it's great running into you here! We weren't sure we would get to see you."

Feyre's voice was tense when she answered. "Well, it is my sister's wedding, you know."

"Oh no, I know, Dear, of course. What I meant was that we miss seeing you around our house, now that… well you know…" The woman awkwardly stumbled over her words, and the stern man beside her didn't bother to comment.

"Now that I'm not dating your son anymore? You can say it, Dolores, 'break-up' is not a bad word."

Oh. They were Tamlin's parents. He could see it now, especially in the man's posture and appearance, the striking similarities between father and son. He hadn't thought they were going to be at the wedding, but then again, Tamlin was supposed to be Lucien's oldest friend, so it made sense that his parents would be here. Why they were coming to see Feyre like everything was fine between their son and her was beyond him, though.

Feyre seemed to think the same, because she said in a strained voice: "Anyway, we should really go -"

"Oh look," Dolores interrupted her, "Tam is over there! Tamlin, baby, come here!"

They all turned to watch Tamlin's surprised face turn into confusion, and finally anger, as he approached their group and glared at Rhysand. But his mother didn't seem to notice, she just hugged her son, and nudged her husband to do the same. Rhysand was hoping it was over and they would just go away with Tamlin when Dolores asked out of the blue.

"So Feyre, who's your friend? I don't think we've met, are you from Elain's side of the family?"

He was cut off guard by her question, but Feyre answered for him, gripping his hand tightly. "He's my boyfriend."

The silence that followed was almost hilarious. He could see Tamlin's parents' faces crumble, and he could feel the anger sipping out of Tamlin. In face of the general awkwardness, Rhysand decided to have a laugh out of it, at least for Feyre's sake. So he extended his hand and shook theirs.

"It's very nice to meet you, I'm Rhysand."

Tamlin's father shook his hand as briefly as humanly possible, but his mother lingered, as if in shock. But Rhysand wouldn't let the silence reign around them.

"Are you enjoying the party? Elain and Lucien really went all out, didn't they?"

As usual, his charm was enough to almost diffuse the situation. Dolores smiled at him and started talking about the wonderful hors-d'oeuvres she had tried out. He felt Feyre's hand relax in his own, and she moved closer to him. He had to restrain himself from looping an arm around her shoulder - he didn't want to go too over the board.

Tamlin was silent beside his parents, letting his mother ramble for a minute. Then he finally talked, not letting her finish a sentence.

"Mom, maybe you would like to have something to drink? Let's go."

His mother slowly turned to him, clearly not happy about having been interrupted. "Yes, I would, thank you for offering. I'll have a martini, please."

Rhys almost snorted. Tamlin had clearly wanted to cut in on the conversation, and his mother was just sending him away. Oh, she was a fun one. Tamlin grumbled something and walked away, not without a last heinous look towards him. His father followed him without a second look in their direction, and Dolores turned back to them.

"I'm sorry, he can be so rude sometimes. Anyway, what was I saying?"

"You were talking about the menu for tomorrow," Feyre answered in a sharp voice. "I'm sorry Dolores, we should probably go say hello to other guests." They had already talked to everybody at the party, but he certainly wasn't going to point that out and miss the opportunity to leave.

"Oh, Dear, don't be uncomfortable please. Just because you and my son broke up doesn't mean we have to be in bad terms."

"Not in bad terms, no. But I'm sorry Dolores, I'm not really comfortable being around him, and that includes you."

"Why would you be uncomfortable? I know you two had a couple of differences but that doesn't mean you don't love each other anymore."

Was this woman seriously talking about Feyre still loving her ex in front of him? But before he could say anything, Feyre answered.

"A couple of differences? Oh I see, you don't know why we broke up, do you?"

"Feyre." Tamlin's voice sounded from behind them, coming back from the bar.

"No, she deserves to know why I dumped your ass, Tam," and turning back to his parents, she said, "Tamlin cheated on me. He spent an entire weekend screwing his colleague, dear Ianthe you seem to find so nice, and then when I came back he acted like nothing was wrong. When I found out and dumped him, he actually cried and begged me to stay with him. You son is a worthless coward, Dolores, and I regret every minute that our relationship lasted. Now if you'll excuse me," she said as she looped an arm around his, "my boyfriend and I have some place to be. Anywhere away from here, for instance."

They stumbled inside the room together, and Rhys awkwardly closed the door behind them, Feyre's hand still clenching his tightly. She was laughing, as she had been since she'd made him run away from her ex's family, and she turned to him, put her other hand on his chest and said once again "did you see his face? Did you see him? He was so angry, that was perfect!"

He took the hand that was over his chest in his, a feeble attempt at hiding the fact that his heart was beating much faster than it was supposed to. She kept laughing, so close to him, and as they moved inside the room, they fell on the bed together. Out of instinct at the sudden change in gravity, Rhys wrapped Feyre in his arms, and then there they were, him lying on the bed, her body halfway on top of him and halfway at his side, her face more beautiful than he'd ever seen it with her disheveled hair, her eyes shining with mischief and a large smile on her face. Seeing her this happy, he couldn't restrain a grin of his own, and he answered her.

"His face was priceless, Darling! You were totally right to -"

He was interrupted by her soft lips against his. As it had every time they had kissed this weekend, a whirlwind of feelings invaded his mind and rendered him unable to form a rational thought. She left his mouth just a moment later, and he realized he'd closed his eyes only when he opened them to find her smiling at him.

"We're all alone, Feyre," he whispered, "you don't have to pretend."

She said nothing for a while, her eyes moving to watch his lips before darting back to his eyes.

"I know," she answered, and then she was kissing him again.